


Righteous Side of Hell

by KawaiiPsycho101



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Major Original Character(s), Multi, Original Character(s), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, Shinigami!OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KawaiiPsycho101/pseuds/KawaiiPsycho101
Summary: An alternate take on the second half of Death Note based on a series of what-ifs, like: What if the notebook Ryuk stole and eventually wound up with Mello didn't belong to Sidoh, but a different shinigami? What if not all humans went to MU (nothingness) after they died? What if only 99.999999% of them did? And what if a certain serial killer had died the way he'd originally planned?





	1. Prelude

_Dear Reader,_

_The following story is a work of non-profit fan fiction. **Death Note** , and its characters, belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. The only things that belong to me here are this story, and the character of A.K.A. Once again, I make no monetary gain off of this; this is merely a hobby that grew out of hand. And a quick warning, there will be spoilers for every character’s real name, and for the rest of the series after episode 25/chapter 58. If you plan on watching/reading **Death Note** , or are currently making your way through it, I suggest you stop reading now, and come back when you’ve finished both it, and the spin-off novel **Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases** (which belongs to Nisio Isin, and not me). _

_Oh, and I will be following the anime timeline, which means that the event of the BB murder cases took place between July 22 – August 22, 2005, Light Yagami picked up the Death Note on November 23, 2006, and our story begins in October of 2012._

_Also, the lyrics you see below do not belong to me either. They belong to Five Finger Death Punch._

_"Arms wide open, I stand alone._

_I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone._

_Right or wrong, I can hardly tell._

_I’m on the wrong side of Heaven, and the righteous side of Hell.”_

_-Wrong Side of Heaven Five Finger Death Punch_

* * *

“Hello Ryuk.”

Said death god started, nearly dropping his apple, and turned towards the stranger. It was another shinigami, about the same height as him, give or take a few inches, but with only half of his bulk. Sewn to its pale face was a black, leathery mask with a streak of white under each eye. A long black scarf was wrapped around the lower portion of its face and neck, the ends trailing down to its knees. Its clothes were rattier than his, with just a simple black long-sleeved shirt with a belt for its Death Note, black pants, and black shoes. Long, spidery fingers with sharp obsidian nails protruded from black fingerless gloves.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the shinigami whose notebook you stole!” it snapped, bright red eyes shining with anger as its pupils shrank to slits.

“Oh you must be Alejandra, the one that-”

“It’s Alixandria, jackass! Now if you don’t mind, I’d like my notebook back!”

“As much as I’d like to return it, I’m afraid I don’t know where it is.”

“You lost it?!”

“Not exactly. More like it was taken…”

“By who?!”

“I don’t know.” Ryuk shrugged and took a bite of his apple, which was quickly grabbed and tossed out the window.

“Hey!”

“Listen you, if you don’t help me find my notebook, I’ll tell the King what you’ve been up to down here, and I’ll see to it that you suffer the worst kind of Hell imaginable!” It grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his face in close until it was only inches away from him. “Understand?!”

Ryuk stared into its eyes for a moment…then started to laugh.

“You’ve got a lot of fire for a new shinigami. Alright, I’ll help.”


	2. That! That!

_You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me._

It had taken a while, but with Ryuk’s assistance, I’d finally been able to track down the current owner of my notebook to a local mafia faction. The mere idea of these thugs possessing _my_ Death Note, using it, _defiling_ it, made me sick to my stomach.

“You’re all scum, ya know that?” I said to the oblivious men and women. “Worthless, life-sucking _scum_.” I could see the back of a head with silken blonde hair extending a graceful, well-toned arm. In its gloved-covered hand was my notebook.

_A woman, huh? That’s actually rather impressive. Don’t see many god **mothers** these days._

“I look forward to murdering you all slowly and painfully,” I continued as I began to head towards her. “Your screams will bring me absolute pleasure, and only when you’ve begged for the sweet release of death will I holy shit, you’re a guy.”

Indeed, sitting before me on a tacky zebra-striped sofa was an attractive young _man_ sporting a pair of tight leather pants with a matching vest. Dangling from the corner of his black-lipsticked mouth was a bar of chocolate that bobbed up and down with the movement of his jaw as he chewed, occasionally bumping against the wooden rosary around his neck. I glanced down and blinked at the most-likely loaded gun snugged securely in the front of his trousers. I looked up at his name and found the words _Mihael Keehl_ floating above his head. Mihael was a boy’s name, last time I checked.

_**My** notebook is in the hands of a blonde, leather-wearing, chocolate-munching, gun-toting, possibly-sociopathic, pretty boy?!_

I slowly rubbed a hand down my face and sighed.

“Of course. Sure. Why the fuck not?”

After a few more seconds of staring at the oddity, I decided it was time to make contact.

_He can’t see me until Snydar touches it. Guess I’ll have to wait…_

* * *

 

**_A few seconds later…_ **

* * *

 

_Fuck this shit!_

I plucked the notebook out of the blonde’s hands, giggling at the look of pure shock plastered on his face, and slapped it against Snydar’s cheek before dropping it in his lap.

“The…The notebook just flew.”

“Heh, it’s a notebook that kills people. Hell, nothing surprises me anymore,” said a fellow mobster named Dwhite Gordan, a beefcake who only wore a suit-jacket to hide his chest.

_Nothing surprises you, eh? Just wait…_

I watched as Snydar turned around and saw me, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates.

“Ha! You should see your face right now!”

“AAHHH!” He fell out of his seat and pointed at me. “Boss, who is this?! The guy in the freaky costume?! Who the Hell is he?! Who brought him here?!”

“You idiot, don’t you know a shinigami when you see one?”

“A shinigami?” He began to laugh hysterically.

“That’s right. Now if I were you, I’d have the others touch the notebook before the men in white come and take you to the Happy Home.” I pointed at the Death Note. “Go on.”

Snydar picked up the notebook with shaking hands and looked at me, then his cohorts.

“It says you can see it if you touch the notebook! Please, everyone touch it! I swear I’m not crazy!”

Everyone looked at Dwhite, and I realized that he must be their leader, which struck me as strange. I’d been almost certain that Mihael was the one in charge, seeing as he was the one lounging around like he owned the place and examining my notebook like it was a shiny new toy, plus the sense of leadership and authority that practically radiated from him.

_Then again, he’s awfully young…Perhaps he’s a second-in-command...Still though, for someone so young to make it this far in the mafia…_

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Dwhite gave an annoyed grunt.

“Fine, whatever. Come on guys, touch the notebook.”

Just as the first person’s hand was inches away from the book, I got a brilliant idea and quickly went through the wall closest to me.

“Well Jack, where is it?”

“It was right there, I swear! Just now!”

“Sure it was.” I heard a mumbled agreement from the other men in the room, figuring that by now they had all touched the notebook, and made my move, sliding through the wall as quickly as I’d left.

“WHAAAAZZZZZUUUUHHHP?”

The screams and gunshots that followed were music to my ears. I hadn’t laughed so hard in years. I was still trying to keep my sides from splitting by the time they calmed down.

“Jack’s right,” Dwhite muttered. “That ain’t no costume. That’s a real-life shinigami.”

“Damn straight,” I snickered.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing really, just my notebook.”

“ _Your_ notebook?”

“Yes, _my_ notebook.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How do we know it’s yours?”

“Flip to the inside of the back cover and you’ll find a series of symbols scratched into the material of the lower right-hand corner. Those are my initials, which translated to the English alphabet, would be A.K.A.” The mobsters did as they were told and, sure enough, my initials were there.

“Okay, so it’s your notebook. Doesn’t mean we have to give it back to you.”

“ _Au contraire_ , my bald, muscular friend. You see, I don’t have long to live, and if I don’t write down some names in that Death Note soon, I will die. And if I die, that notebook will burst into flames. And if the Death Note is destroyed, you will all die in thirteen days.” The mobster’s faces all paled at my last sentence. If Ryuk hadn’t told me about the fake rules he’d written in my notebook, I wouldn’t have had my bargaining chip. “Tell you what, since I’m such a nice shinigami, I’ll make you a deal. Let me borrow the notebook for a little while so I can write some names down and expand my life-span, then I’ll give it right back as soon as I’m done with it, okay?”

As I spoke, I couldn’t help but notice that the blonde seemed unusually calm considering the situation he was in; not every day could someone talk to a shinigami. But his eyes never left my own, and I could practically see the gears in his head working at break-neck speed.

“How do we know you won’t just run away with the notebook? Or write all of our names down, and _then_ run away?” My attention returned to the head mobster before me.

“A few reasons: one, the human has to _willingly_ surrender the notebook in order for it to be returned to its original owner. Second, I can tell by looking at your lifespans that not that many of you have long to live, so why should I bother killing you if your deaths won’t be that much use to me? And thirdly, do I look like the kind of shinigami that would go back on its word?” I smirked under my scarf and held out my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll only need it for a few minutes, and I promise I’ll give it back.”

“But-”

“Just give it the notebook, Rod. I think it’s telling the truth.”

There was a brief silence before the mob boss spoke.

“Are you sure, Mello?”

_Wait, WHAT?_

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” Without another word he handed me my notebook, and I took it from him while doing my best to hide my sudden anxiety.

_Did he say…? No…no, it can’t be…I must have misheard._

“Thank you.” I pulled a pen from my belt and flipped to a fresh page in the notebook. “Any preferences?”

“No, thanks. We already took care of that.”

“Ah. Excuse me.” I stepped past him and sat cross-legged on the floor facing a TV. It was a news show; an anchorwoman was posing before a camera with a lot of bystanders standing behind her. “Perfect.”

I picked my victims, and the causes and times of their deaths, at random, while throwing in some criminals for good measure, but not enough for the men watching me to notice. After a couple minutes, I’d written down enough names to last me for a very long time.

“There,” I slapped the notebook shut. “I should be set for the next couple hundred years or so.” I stood up and handed it back to Rod. “I told you I was a shinigami of my word.”

“Right…” he said uncomfortably.

“What’s wrong? Still put off by my appearance?” I cleared my throat and threw my voice around until it was a perfect imitation of his. _“Or is it the voice? Does the way I talk upset you?”_

The man’s eyes widened.

“How…how are you doing that?”

_“It’s a quirk.”_ I grinned, knowing that my voice trick was putting everyone in a state of unease.

_I’ll have these pigs in the palm of my hand in no time._

“Umm…Could you please,” mumbled one of the other mobsters. “Not do that?”

_“Well, since you asked nicely…”_ I reverted back to my normal way of speaking. “Sure.”

“Shinigami.” I looked at the blonde on the couch, and was surprised to find that he was still remarkably composed. The way he looked at me…It felt like he was sizing me up, figuring out various ways I could be of use to him, and then when and how to dispose of me once he was through. This was a man used to getting what he wanted, and anyone who got in his way would most assuredly wind up with a bullet lodged into their skull. Normally I despised people like this, and frankly, he was no exception; and yet, the more I studied him, I realized that unlike other pompous brats, he had the skill to back up his bravado. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to respect him.

_Maybe…there’s a chance it might be him…But I have to be certain._

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me A for now.” I noticed how his brow twitched ever so slightly, as if maybe I’d struck a nerve. “Or ‘Shinigami’, or whatever. I don’t really care.”

“Then tell me…A,” he asked, taking a bite of his chocolate. “Is there anything else we need to know about the Death Note? Any other rules or limitations to who we can kill?”

I got an idea and smirked.

“There are, but I don’t like giving things away without getting something in return. So, how about another deal?”

“What do you want?”

“That.” I pointed to his chocolate. “Give me some of that, and I’ll answer any questions you have with the utmost sincerity. No lies, no tricks.”

“Done.” He grabbed another chocolate bar off of a table next to him and tossed it to me, which I easily caught. I carefully unwrapped it, the smell instantly making my mouth water. I lowered my scarf and heard quiet mutterings from the others as they saw my razor-sharp teeth. As I bit into the sweetness, letting the taste melt into my tongue, my eyes rolled back into my head and I felt my knees buckle a little. A low moan escaped the back of my throat as I savored every single bite.

_Oh, sweet motherfucking Christ, **yes.**_

As I finished it off, I placed my palms together and closed my eyes for a brief second in an almost-reflexive sign of thanks. I didn’t really notice I was doing it until I’d opened my eyes again.

_Huh…that’s odd._

I quickly put the thought out of my mind and positioned my scarf back over my mouth with a grin.

“The thirteen-day rule is totally bogus. Also, if I die, the notebook will not be affected; the same would also apply to me if the notebook is destroyed.”

“You mean those rules are fake?!” Rod cried.

“That’s what I said.”

“So earlier,” one of the mobsters grumbled. “When you wanted to borrow the notebook, you were-”

“Playing you for a bunch of chumps? Yes, yes I was.”

“But why? Why would you put in fake rules?” The blonde’s gaze narrowed.

“I _didn’t_ , someone else did.”

“Who?”

“No idea,” I lied. “Most likely another shinigami. Probably did it to mess with a human. Ya know, shits and giggles. Oh, and you’ll probably want to know about the eye-trade.”

“Eye-trade?”

“A shinigami’s eyes can see a person’s real name and lifespan above their heads. In exchange for half of the current owner’s remaining lifespan, I can give him those eyes. And speaking of names, would you mind telling me how to pronounce yours?” His cerulean eyes narrowed as I squinted at the floating letters above his head. “I can read it, but I can’t figure out how you’re supposed to say it. Is it-?”

“That’s enough!” His outburst almost made me flinch. “I go by Mello, understand? Nothing else.”

_Ho. Ly. Shit. It **is** him. It has to be! _

“Alright, alright,” I raised my hands in a position of mock-surrender. “No need to get snippy.”

Mello quickly cooled down and resumed his leisurely position on the couch, his body practically draped over the cushions like a model about to be drawn nude.

“Are you serious about this eye-trade?”

“Quite. But I can only make the deal with the current owner of my Death Note,” I turned to Snydar. “That would be you.”

“Make the deal, Jack,” Rod ordered.

“Wh-what?!”

“You heard me. Make the deal for the shinigami eyes.”

“But I’ll lose half of-” It was at this point Snydar noticed the way Rod was reaching into his jacket. “Ya know, on second thought, I’d like to make to the eye-trade.”

“Atta boy.”

“So, uh…” Snydar looked at me. “How does this…umm, happen? What are you going to do?”

“Just close your eyes and hold very still.” He did as instructed and I gently placed my hand on top of his head. “Now, I’ve never done this before, so it may take a few tries,” I didn’t know whether to mock or pity the man as he started to tremble. “But it shouldn’t hurt a bit.” I focused for a second and felt a strange tingling in the hand that was on Snydar’s head which quickly shot up my arm and dissipated. “Annnnnd done. You can open your eyes now.” He did so, revealing bright red irises which quickly faded back to his natural eye color. “Congratulations, you are now that much closer to death.”

_And I’m that much closer to getting my Death Note back…_

“What do you see?” Mello asked.

“Names…” Snydar whispered. “And numbers. Are those their lifespans?”

“Yeah, but they’re done in the numeral language of the shinigami. To translate it to human calculations, you’d need a calculator and a great deal of time, depending on how precise you’d want it to be.”

“Excellent.” Rod thumped Snydar on the back. “Now we’re in business.”

“Thank you, A.” Mello smiled. “You have been very helpful.”

I felt something stir deep inside of me. A quiver just below my stomach that sent tingles up my spine and made my lower extremities throb ever so slightly. The sensation was new, yet faintly familiar. I almost gagged when I realized what it was.

_Oh no, nope, nuh-unh, don’t even think about it, don’t you **dare** feel attracted to him ah shit, too late. _

“No problem.” The inside of my mouth felt like sandpaper. “Any other questions?”

“I think we’re good for now.” His smile disappeared, as did the sickening feeling, and I inwardly sighed with relief. “We’ll let you know if we have any more questions, but for now, you can keep watch outside.”

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t quite believe what I’d just heard.

“It’ll be very convenient for us that you can’t be seen by humans. Go outside and keep watch, _got it?_ "

In another time, I would have pissed my pants and ran at the look he gave me then. It was goddamn creepy. But I had changed since then, and had grown used to these kinds of gazes. If anything, I thought it was extremely humorous.

“Heh…heheheh…” His left eye twitched in surprise as my giggles turned into guffaws of laughter. Everyone stared, bewildered, as my voice rose and fell, cracking in its insane cackles.

“What’s so funny?” Mello asked, irked.

“You are!” I chuckled. “You are without a doubt the strangest human being I have ever encountered! Your appearance! Your intelligence! Your chocolate and leather fetishes! And now you’re givin’ me friggin’ orders! Me! A goddamned shinigami! A being that has every single person in this room terrified except for you! The whole thing just strikes me as hilarious!”

I continued to laugh maniacally as the blonde glared at me with the icy daggers that were his eyes. Eventually, I began to calm down.

“Finished?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’ll give you this though, you’re probably also the bravest human I’ve seen; it takes some serious guts to boss around a death god.”

There was a brief pause as my words sunk in. I had a feeling I had said what everyone else had once thought at one point or another. Mello was a _very_ strange person. Brilliant yes, but strange…and maybe a bit psychotic, but hey, I wasn’t one to judge.

“So, are you going to keep watch, or not?”

My lips clenched into a scowl as my good humor immediately dissolved.

“Okay, let’s make something explicitly, _perfectly_ clear here.” I took a few steps toward him. “The only reason I’m here is because shinigami law _requires_ me to be. That does _not_ make me your servant, alright? You do _not_ get to order me around like one of these shit-for-brains asshats.” I motioned to the group of men surrounding us, stopping once I was right in front of him. He hadn’t moved an inch, his face only expressing the slightest hint of emotion. It was really starting to tick me off. “So, do we have an understanding?”

There was a tense silence, the people in the room waiting with bated breath for Mello’s response, until…

“Do it, and I’ll give you more chocolate.”

_-snap!-_

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d grabbed the blonde by the throat and yanked him to his feet. He audibly gasped in surprise and pain as I slammed his back against the wall above the couch. I found it immensely pleasing.

“Listen well, Pretty Boy, because I’m only going to say this once,” I leaned in close until we were perfectly eye-level. “Don’t fuck with me. Fuck with me, and you’ll regret it. You have my word on that.”

I dropped him back on the sofa-cushions and he glared up at me with hate-filled eyes.

“You...you…” He was so angry, he couldn’t think of anything to say. I knew that feeling well.

“Maybe when you’re ready to treat with me some respect, we can try this again.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, tightening my grip when he tried to shake it off, and leaned in again, hissing into his ear. “Your tricks won’t work on me. I’ve been dealing with your type for a _long_ time now. I’m used to it.”

“My type?” Mello whispered, caught off-guard again as I released his shoulder and stood up.

“Anyway, if you have any more questions regarding the Death Note, just give me a holler. Later.”

Black, feathery wings popped out of my back, and I flew up and out of the hideout so fast that Mello’s enraged shouts just barely reached my ears as faint whispers. I smiled in content as I settled on a high tree-branch, but it didn’t last long as I began to think about the recklessness of my past actions, and the young man whom was currently handling my notebook.

_Hmm…Short-tempered, calculating, a bit on the arrogant side, chocolate addiction, late teens…There’s no doubt about it…It’s the Mello he told me about…_

I held up my left arm and pulled down the shirt-sleeve, revealing a single letter carved into the flesh of my wrist and a list of names beneath it. Using the sharp tip of my pen, I began to add the names of the people I’d sentenced to death just a few minutes prior. I hoped that the familiar pain would be enough to distract me from my rapidly growing feeling of dread.

_This might change things…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title for this chapter: HEYKIDSWANNASEEADEADBODY?
> 
> And before you ask, yes, Mello wearing black lipstick is totally canon. Don't believe me? Look it up. Fabulous, no?


	3. Something There

Nearly three hours passed before a small group of men left the hideout and gathered at the trunk of my tree.

“Hey! Hey, shinigami!”

_'Bout time._

I let myself slip off the branch and floated down towards them.

“Yes?”

“Mello wants to talk to you,” a man with dreadlocks said nervously. “If you would please come with us.”

I could tell that they were still apprehensive of me, for their eyes held the same fear from before, and they made sure to keep their distance. I silently chuckled at the poor bastards.

“Very well.” I followed them inside, where Mello was waiting, seated on a plush leather chair, munching on another chocolate bar. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot earlier.”

“Agreed.”

“I’d like to ask again for your assistance.”

“You didn’t exactly ‘ask’ the first time.”

“Well, I’m asking now.” He leaned forward and eyed me intently. “A, we would deeply appreciate it if you would keep watch outside and let us know if you see anything or anyone out of the ordinary. We’d be willing to give you a bar of chocolate for every other hour of your service.”

Again, I felt the uncomfortable sensation in the pit of my stomach as my mouth started to dry up.

_Damn it, cut that shit out!_

“What kind of chocolate?” Mello blinked, surprised that I hadn’t accepted the offer right away, and perhaps slightly confused at my question. “I mean, is it good chocolate?”

“Oh, yes,” he nodded. “It’s very good. Here, let me show you.” He motioned to one of his men, who presented me with a moderately-sized bar of _Godiva_. “One of those, every other hour.”

“Um-hmm…” I paused, as if considering, when in reality, I’d already made up my mind. The thought of having chocolate again, especially exquisite chocolate such as _Godiva_ , was far too tempting.

“So, what do you think?” Mello asked.

“Deal.”

“Great. Now, before you start, would you mind if we asked you some more questions about the Death Note?”

“Not at all.” I sat cross-legged in the air to get myself comfortable. “Fire away.”

* * *

And so it went, for the next few weeks. Whenever I wasn’t keeping watch outside, I was in the hideout, munching on my reward while answering Mello’s many questions. _(“If you give up ownership of the Death Note, you will lose all memory of it and the shinigami possessing you, which would be me.” “No, you can’t make someone kill a large group of people without writing all of their names down too.” “You can’t kill anyone under seven-hundred-and-eighty days of age, that is, a little under two-and-a-half years old, and why would you, ya sick fuck?” etc. etc.)_ As time passed, my calls inside became less and less frequent, going from nearly every couple of hours, to once or twice a day, then maybe once every few days, then none at all, until I would just pop in to eat my chocolate and go back to what I was doing with barely even a word spoken between me and the others; not that I really minded. I didn’t care about them anyway. They were just worthless, mindless, disgusting human beings. I had no sympathy for what fate would most likely befall them, and I wished it would come soon. The sooner those assholes died, the sooner I could get my notebook back.

While I kept guard outside, I would pass the time the way I did back in the Shinigami Realm: I sang. Using a variety of different voices, I would sing to myself, sometimes softly, sometimes loud enough that a mobster or two taking a smoke break might hear me, but no one ever spoke up about it. I figured that they were probably too scared.

Often times I would fly around the perimeter of the hideout, doing various spins and loop-de-loops. There were few things that were desirable about being a shinigami, but in my opinion, the invulnerability and the eyes had nothing on the ability of flight. It was the only thing aside from my voice trick that made me genuinely glad to be what I was. Every time I flew, it felt like the first time. There would be this sense of wonder and excitement blossoming in my chest, and I’d always think, _“Holy fucking shit, I can’t believe I’m actually flying!”_ It never got old.

But when I wasn’t singing, or flying, or fantasizing about slowly and brutally killing the pigs I worked for, I would sit and meditate. I’d think about Mello.

Mello was a fascinating creature. I would often watch him out of the corner of my eye when I took my chocolate-breaks. He was just as I’d imagined he’d be, but also the exact opposite of what I’d pictured. He was bold, confident, tough, and didn’t take shit from anybody, as to be expected; but he was also ruthless, sadistic, cocky, and vain.

Simply put, he was an asshole, albeit a very smart asshole, but an asshole nonetheless.

Although to be fair, he seemed to hate his cohorts just as much as I did. I could tell by the way he interacted with them, the way he’d look at them; they were nothing more than pawns to him, and while normally I hated that kind of mentality (and I still do), I couldn’t blame him that much. I’d use those schmucks as pawns too.

I began to wonder if I should tell Mello what I knew, or if he even _deserved_ to know. Would my information do any harm? I knew it would provide nothing useful to his Kira investigation, but it would definitely be interesting to see his reaction. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I really wanted a chance to talk to him alone, without any of the other thugs listening. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part, or perhaps it was a genuine feeling, but I had a hunch that there was more to him than just the ingenious douchebag he appeared to be.   

_Eh, what the Hell. What’s the worst that could happen?_

So, on a night shortly after the beginning of the fourth week, I waited until most of the mobsters had gone to sleep, and positioned myself on the roof of the base over what I hoped to be Mello’s room. I already knew the layout of the outside of the building by heart, but I hadn’t seen much of the inside aside from the main room. I’d taken little peeks here and there during my last few chocolate-breaks, but I didn’t want to raise any suspicion. 

_Here goes nothin’._

I sunk through the ceilings and floors before landing in a medium-sized bedroom. There was a bed with black silk sheets and a comforter with a zebra striped pattern, a desk and wall covered with computer monitors, a door leading into a large closet filled with many different styles of clothing (mostly leather), and another door that opened into a rather nice washroom. My eyes found a rosary dangling from the doorknob and I knew I was in the right place.

I sat in a corner of the room, facing the door, and waited.

* * *

It took him a while, nearly an hour or so, but Mello finally showed up.

“Hey.”

“What the-!?” His eyes widened in obvious surprise, and I knew that very soon that surprise would quickly turn into anger, which it did. Before he was able to cuss me out at the top of his lungs, I pressed a finger to my lips and shook my head slightly.

_Not a good idea._

Getting the message, he lowered his voice to a menacing hiss.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private.” I nodded to the door behind him, and after a slight hesitation, he closed it. “Are there any bugs or cameras in here? If so, I’d like you to turn them off. I want this conversation to remain strictly between us.”

“Very well, but I’m only doing this because I too have some questions for you that I don’t want the others to hear.” He went to the desk of computers and sat in the leather rolling chair. I stood up and watched him closely as his fingers danced across the keyboard. Once he was done, he spun around and faced me. “There. We’re completely alone. Now, could you please tell me what’s so damn important?”

I gently nibbled on my lower lip. Even though I’d rehearsed what I was going to say a thousand times over in my head, I was still a little nervous, a fact which detested me to no end.

“Before I do, let me ask you something.” His eyes narrowed slightly, but he motioned for me to continue. “Do you believe that human beings have souls?”

He thought about it for a second.

“Yes.”

“Alright. I figured you did since, unless that rosary is for show, you appear to be Catholic.”

“I am.”

“So, you believe that after people die, their souls pass on into another place, like Heaven or Hell?”

“Yes. And before you ask, yes, I know where I’m going, and I’ve made peace with that.”

“I wasn’t going to, although from what I hear, people who use a Death Note cannot go to Heaven or Hell.”

“Really?” He opened a desk-drawer, revealing many chocolate bars. He grabbed one and began to open it. “Then where do they go?”

“No idea. Perhaps nowhere. Maybe humans aren’t meant to go _anywhere_ after they die; they’re just supposed to rot. There’s no way to know.” As I began to stare off into space, I noticed the impatience growing on Mello’s features and quickly brought myself back to reality. “Sorry, I got off-topic. Anyway, in the Shinigami Realm, where I’m from, there is said to be a special breed of shinigami, one radically different from the rest of shinigami kind. One so rare that some believe it to be a myth; these are shinigami supposedly created from the soul of a deceased human. They don’t usually live very long, whether because they don’t write enough names in their Death Notes, or they do something to piss off the King.”

“The King?”

“The Shinigami King. He rules over the Shinigami Realm, makes and enforces the laws, and punishes those that break them. His power is greater than that of any other shinigami and then some. I believe your religion would call him ‘The Devil’.”

I watched Mello’s expression very carefully. His eyes widened a bit and he stopped chewing the chocolate in his mouth. 

“You’re serious.” His voice was the softest I’d heard.  

“Yes. Supposedly, every human’s soul has a chance of transforming into a shinigami upon death. It’s an _extremely_ slim chance though, say, one in a million, no, one in a _billion_ shot, maybe more.”

“A shinigami king…shinigami born from dead humans…” Mello leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “Incredible…Absolutely incredible…” 

“They don’t appear very often, these human-shinigami hybrids,” I continued as he processed the information. “Up until recently, there hadn’t been one for over a thousand years, and the last couple before that were spread out over several centuries.”

“How many are there now?”

“Two, as far as I know, one of whom I’ve met. He claimed to have grown up in a place that specialized in mass-producing geniuses, in the hopes of creating a successor to a very well-regarded human known as L. The institute was an orphanage, he said, named after its founder, called Wammy’s Hou-oh shit, you okay?”

Mello had inhaled his chocolate and was currently coughing it back up. He threw up a hand when I went over to help him.

“I-I’m fine.” The morsel of cocoa soon melted in his throat and he swallowed it. “There’s no way…it’s impossible…” He stood up and faced me, trying to take control of the situation. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Why would I lie? It’s not like I have anything to gain from this, other than the look on your face, which I’ll admit is pretty priceless,” I smirked.

“I still can’t be sure. You’ll have to tell me something else, something only people from Wammy’s House would know.”

“Isn’t the fact that I know of the House’s existence and its purpose proof enough?”

“Almost, but not quite.” He crossed his arms, quirking a hairless brow. “Did this ‘human-shinigami hybrid’ give you his name?”

_I think you already know, Pretty Boy._

“Yes, he did. When I first met him, he said it was Rue Ryuzaki, but eventually he told me to call him Beyond-”

“Birthday.” Mello looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“You knew him?”

“No…no, I was just a kid when he left. I don’t think we ever had a one-on-one conversation, we were just aware of the other’s existence. But I heard about him, years later. Only the people who had been at Wammy’s long enough even knew he _existed_ , and even fewer knew just who exactly he was and what he did.” He clutched his rosary tightly and slumped back into his chair. “Holy shit…holy shit, son of a bitch…”

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yes!” he snapped, getting a hold of himself rather quickly. “Did Beyond really tell you this?”

“Again, why would I lie?”

“Then that settles it. I had a feeling from the start, but I just had to be sure…” He looked up at me with triumphant eyes and spoke without a trace of doubt. “You’re the other hybrid.”

There was silence for a few seconds, then I smiled.

“You really are as good as he said.” I went over to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall casually. “Out of curiosity, what gave me away?”

“It wasn’t that hard. The first clue was that you knew there were different kinds and brands of chocolate, plus the fact that you knew what it was without me telling you. How would you know the name of a substance that probably doesn’t exist in the Shinigami Realm? And the more I thought about it, the way you ate that first chocolate bar back then, there was a look on your face; that was the face of someone eating a treat they hadn’t had in a long time.”

“Yes,” I sighed, remembering that first bite. “I’d forgotten how wonderful chocolate was. It was… _amazing_. Thank you for that, by the way. Really, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” For the first time since I’d met him, Mello sounded genuinely sincere. I appreciated that.

“What else was there?”

“The Beyond I’ve heard about would never give away personal information like that unless it was for an important reason, or if whomever he was telling was important to him…He would have wanted to share his story with another human.”

“Serial killers get lonely too, Pretty Boy. Since we’re the only shinigami to _truly_ understand humans, it was only natural for us to become…acquaintances.”

“So he told you everything?”

“Just the basics; Wammy’s, L, the murders, his suicide, you and the others-”

“What do you mean, ‘others’?”

“Oh, he’s been watching over the children of Wammy’s ever since he died, especially L’s new successors. He once told me about a pale kid who was really good with puzzles and wasn’t much of a talker…”

“Near.” Mello said the name as if it were a curse-word that befouled his tongue.

“Right, Near. Then there was this hot-headed boy with a serious chocolate addiction, which was you, and a computer genius that was able to hack into a Swiss bank account when he was only ten years old.”

“Matt.”

“Yes. He said you two were thick as thieves. I’m actually a little surprised that he’s not here.”

“I don’t really need him for this, so I figured it’d be better not to get him involved.”

“Ah.” I could tell that he wasn’t telling the whole truth, and was at least a little bit uncomfortable discussing the matter, so I let it drop. “But anyway, you said you had a feeling from the beginning?”

“Yeah. At first, I had this wild notion that you might be _the_ A, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that you weren’t.”

“Heh, my memory of human life may be pretty hazy, but I think I’d remember growing up in a place like Wammy’s House. Nah, it’s just coincidence that A and I share the same first initial.”

“‘Hazy’?”

“Some of the hybrids, like Beyond, can remember with absolute clarity what they were like as a human; how they lived, how they died. While some hybrids, like me…” I sighed. “Have a little trouble with it.” 

“Oh…” For just a split-second, I could have sworn I saw a little bit of sympathy in his eyes. I was surprised at the gratitude I felt then.

“Anyway, you said you had some questions for me?” I really wanted to change the subject.

“Well, I was going to ask if you were once human, but seeing as you already confirmed my theory, there’s no need to. Although, there is one thing I’m curious about…”

“What?”

“Why are you telling me this? You said so yourself, you have nothing to gain from it. So, why?”

“Honestly,” I shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. Part of it was just so I could see your reaction, and I guess I thought you deserved to know. But looking back on it, I don’t know…I thought…maybe…” I struggled for the right words. “It might make you…feel better?”

“Feel better?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I think there’s more to you than meets the eye. It’s like I can sense it.”

“Okay…” There was an awkward silence and I inwardly smacked myself for saying something so incredibly stupid. Then a small smirk slowly crawled onto Mello’s face.

“What?”

“Ever since it occurred to me that you might be human, I’ve been trying to figure out what your age and gender might have been when you died.”

“Oh? What was I?” I was secretly glad that he’d been thinking about me.

_Fuck, I may be seriously starting to like him. If that’s the case, then he must never know. Ever._

“The age was pretty easy. At first I thought you might have been a guy in his early to mid-twenties, but after your immature teasing and name-calling, I became almost certain that you were a teenager, possibly in your mid-to-late teens. But then again, you seemed very okay with murdering a bunch of innocent people, something I wouldn’t think a young person would be very comfortable with.”

“Shinigami can only survive by taking the remaining years off a human’s lifespan and adding them to their own; it was either them or me. And for what little it’s worth, I made sure their deaths were quick and relatively painless. Besides, I’ve been doing this a long time, _Pretty Boy_ ,” I smirked as he glowered at the nickname. “You get used to it. And you’re one to talk; you’re only what, eighteen?”

“Nineteen,” he corrected.

“Exactly, and they say you‘ve been with the mob for a year and a half.”

“Good point.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, thinking. “Still, for your age, I’d be willing to bet that you were anywhere between your late teens to early twenties when you died.”

“Alright,” I nodded, urging him to continue.

“The gender on the other hand…It’s hard to tell. I constantly switch back and forth between boy or girl, seeing as you don’t seem to have any distinguishable male or female traits. Then there’s your voice; it’s very androgynous. It sounds too high to be a male’s voice, but too low to be female. Was it like that back when you were alive?”

“No. I lost my original voice when I turned, so the King gave me a new one, along with the power to mimic any other voice I hear.”

“Interesting.” He pondered for a second. “Then there was all that talk about my feelings…something only a woman would bring up.”

“I guess…but men can be sentimental too, ya know.”

“True. But there is one other thing…”

“What?”

“You seem to have taken a liking for me.”

_Shit!_

“Beg pardon?” For a second, I thought I could feel heat rise in my cheeks, but there was no way; shinigami are physically incapable of blushing.

“They say that when someone picks on someone else, it means that they like them. And you act differently around me than with the others. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on me.” He watched me carefully as he spoke, hoping to gauge my reaction.

“I see.” I tried to look as calm and collected as possible. He wasn’t entirely _right_ , but he wasn’t entirely _wrong_ either. “I’ll admit that you are a very attractive person, Mello, and your intelligence is a trait that most people would find desirable. But mostly, you’re just fun to watch.” I slowly started to grin, a mischievous thought entering my mind. “And I can’t help but wonder, the way you mentioned that other successor, Near; I think it’s safe to say that you don’t like him very much.”

“Yes.” His voice dripped with the same venom he’d used when mentioning the name before.

“Back when I was alive, I always thought that when someone held a strong dislike for someone else, it sometimes meant that that person was in denial, because they didn’t want to admit they had feelings for-”

“Oh, Hell no!” He stood up, disgusted by what I was implying. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“See? Fun to watch.” This only served to make him angrier, and for a second I thought he was going to throw me out and/or shoot me. But then he quickly simmered down and smirked with triumph.

“I was right, wasn’t I? You were just trying to distract me so you wouldn’t have to admit it.”

_Damn it!_

“You little shit.” I clenched my hands into fists as an alarming amount of anger surged through me. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, and I was left feeling worn and depressed, slumping against the wall in defeat. “What does it matter if you can figure out my age and gender anyways? It’s not important.”

“No, it probably isn’t.” He sounded a little surprised at my sudden changes in mood. “It was just something to get my mind off of Kira.”

“Ah.” I straightened up and stretched, even though I hadn’t been still for that long. “Anyway, I’ve said what I wanted to say. Goodnight.”

“Wait.” Mello stood up. “You didn’t confirm whether or not I was right about your age and gender.” I stared at him in puzzlement. I didn’t know if he really cared, or if he just had an issue with closure.

“What was your guess again?”

“Teenaged girl, somewhere between sixteen and nineteen.”

_He’s figured me out. The son of a bitch figured me out._

After a brief silence, I sighed and muttered,

“I prefer the term ‘young woman’ rather than ‘teenaged girl’. And sadly, I cannot remember exactly how old I was when I died, but I’m pretty sure I was somewhere between eighteen or twenty, maybe older.”

I suddenly felt a deep wave of sadness seep into my heart.

_Wow…Saying it out loud…I never knew how much it hurt._

I turned to go, my wings slowly unfurling.

“A.” I glanced back and what I saw shocked me to my core. Mello looked at me with eyes filled with empathy, as if I was seeing my own despair reflected back at me. I hadn’t thought that he was capable of seeing me or anyone else as more than just a tool in his master plan, but there it was, staring into me; pain, understanding, and maybe, just maybe, the tiniest bit of care. “I’m sorry.”

It took me a minute, and after a few stuttered attempts, I was able to reply.

“Alixandria. You may call me Alixandria. Goodnight, Mello.”

“Goodnight.”

As I returned to my regular branch, it occurred to me that even after being warped and twisted into something I barely even recognized, some people could still read me like an open book. It almost made me smile.

The next night, everything changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title for this chapter: Shameless Godiva Plug/Exposition Dump


	4. Choice

A girl was screaming.

Everything was dark, so I couldn’t see her. The sound was distant, but clear; a shriek made of pure pain and terror. She had long past the point of calling for help (although it would have been greatly appreciated), and was now tiptoeing just along the edge of madness.

_Tap tap. Tap tap._

Suddenly I was surrounded by fire, the intense heat immediately searing my flesh. I tried to yell, but was choked by smoke.

_Tap tap. Tap tap._

I was being pulled under by skeletal hands, their sharp claws tearing at my skin with the frenzy of a starved animal. I struggled with everything I had, but it was no use, as I was consumed by the flames and my vision clouded with inky blackness once again.

_Tap tap. Tap tap._

And overlapping it all was a strange rhythm.

_"_ _Alixandria.”_

My name.

_“Alixandria!”_

Someone was calling for me.

_“Hey,”_

* * *

“Alixandria!”

My eyes flew open as I jerked forward, a gasp caught in my throat. The night was cool and dark. I was sitting on my usual tree-branch high above the hideout. I must have fallen asleep and had a nightmare, a thought that deeply unnerved me.

_This is wrong. I don’t **need** sleep anymore. I shouldn’t be wasting time with useless things-_

“Finally! I thought you’d never wake up.”

I turned around and saw a familiar figure flying towards me.

“Ryuk?! What the Hell are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d check up on ya, see how things were goin’.” He settled on the branch next to me and plucked an apple seemingly out of nowhere. “I assume you’ve tracked down the current owner of your Death Note?”

“Yeah, he’s…he’s somethin’ else.”

“Humans are so _interesting_ , aren’t they?” he chuckled, eating nearly half of his apple in one bite.

“Nah, just the crazy ones. So, why are you really here?”

“Just a heads up, really. There’s a good chance you’ll be getting your notebook back tonight.”

“What makes you say that?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard muffled screams from inside the hideout, followed by a loud _bang!_ as the door was blown open. I spun around and saw the last of a group of men storm into the building. I could hear Ryuk laughing behind me. “What did you do?!”

“I’ve recently gotten involved with the Kira investigation. One of the leaders actually made the eye-trade with me.”

“What?!”

“Look, all you have to do is sit back and watch. The humans even agreed to give you your Death Note back once they have it.” He finished his apple, core and all. “I thought you’d be happy.”

_He’s right. I **should** be happy. Then why…_

“Very well, but you better be right.” I did as instructed and did nothing, listening to the faint shouts and gunfire.

_This is for the best. I **have** to get my Death Note back as quickly as possible. That’s what I came here for, and damn it, that’s what I’m gonna do. And hey, at least now I won’t have to deal with those assholes anymore, and I won’t have to be the mafia’s guard-dog either._

Yet I still felt a pang of guilt, and I couldn’t help but sigh.

_Sorry, Mel-_

Part of the hideout exploded.

“Jesus!” We both started. “If anything happens to my notebook, Ryuk, I swear-”

“Would you relax already? I’m sure your notebook’s fine.”

_“It’s not the notebook you’re worried about.”_

I froze. A voice had just whispered in my ear, a voice I hadn’t heard in a very, _very_ long time.

_“You’re worried about **him** , aren’t you?”_

_No. No, I’m not. I’m not!_

I stayed perfectly still and did nothing, fists slowly clenching as the voice kept mumbling.

With a deafening roar, the rest of the complex burst into flames.

_“You care what happens down there. You care about **him**.”_

_Shut! Up!_

With a deafening roar, the rest of the complex burst into flames.

_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitshitshitSHIT!_

The building began to crumble as more and more explosions rocked the foundation.

“My notebook!” Before Ryuk could stop me, I jumped off the branch and dived into the smoke.

_Where is he? Where is he?!_

There were bodies everywhere, some still alive, others…not so much. None of them belonged to Mello. After a few minutes and no luck, I began to think that somehow he’d gotten away. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blonde shadowy figure stumbling through the rubble.

_Mello._

Even from a distance, I could tell he was badly hurt. Without thinking, I flew over to him and pulled one of his arms over my shoulders while wrapping the other around his torso, keeping my posture bent so he could walk.

“No…” he slurred. For someone who’d been so close to death, he certainly put up a decent struggle, but I just held him tighter and dragged him further away.

“Don’t talk, Pretty Boy. It’s just me.” He continued to squirm, and I realized that he couldn’t hear me, his ears most likely still ringing from the explosion. I gripped his face and turned it so he was looking into my eyes. “Mello, it’s me-”

_Oh._

The mask he was wearing covered up most of it, but I could plainly see the burns consuming most of the left side of his face, trailing down his neck and to his shoulder, bits of his leather vest melted to his skin. I immediately realized what must have happened.

“You crazy motherfucker…You blew _yourself_ up?!”

“A…?” Mello slurred. “Wha-?”

“I said shut up!” But by then he had passed out, going limp against me.

_Fan-freakin’-tastic._

With an exasperated (and also slightly embarrassed) sigh, I did something that I’d never dreamed of doing in a million years: carry a hot, unconscious, injured man bridal-style.

_Damn it, it’s supposed to be the other way around!_

I took him a good distance before spotting a cave and gently placing him inside. I then searched his pockets for something useful.

_Come on, come on…Ah ha!_

In his left pocket was a cell-phone that had somehow survived the explosion. I flipped it open and searched the names and numbers listed, not sure who to trust in Mello’s time of need. But then, at the very bottom of the list, was one name I recognized: _Matt_.

_It’s a long-shot, but it’ll have to do._

I dialed the number and held it to my ear.

_Please pick up please pick up please pick up please pick up-_

“Hello?”

_Yes!_

“ _Matt,_ ” I said in Mello’s voice. “ _Listen, I need your help. I-_ ”

“Hello?”

_Stupid! He can’t hear me unless he touches the Death Note! Goddamn it!_

I cried out in frustration and began to panic, until I heard a groan behind me and came up with a solution. I thrust the phone against Mello’s good ear and yelled,

“Mello, you have to say something! I can’t get help unless you talk!”

“I’m hanging up-”

I gripped a bit of Mello’s burned flesh with my index finger and thumb, and gave a small squeeze. The response was immediate as he screamed in pain, clutching my arm in protest.

“Sorry.”

“Shit!” I heard the voice on the other end say. “Right in my ear!”

“Come on Mello, talk. Tell him you need help.”

“Matt…” he muttered, barely conscious

“…Mello?”

“That’s it, keep going! If you pass out again, I’m just gonna squeeze harder.”

“Y-Yeah…yeah it’s me. I…I blew myself up, Matt.”

“ _What?!_ ”

“Can…can you come get me?”

“Hang on, I’m tracking your location now. Just keep your phone on and I’ll find you.”

“Thanks…” He passed out again, but I let him rest and placed the cell-phone in his hand.

“Alixandria! Yo, Alixandria! Where are you?” It was Ryuk. I could hear him calling just above us. I stared at Mello and sighed, hoping that I would be able to find him again after I left. Wasting no time, I flew out of the cave and glided close to the ground in case Ryuk tried to look for where I’d been. Once I was far enough away, I shot into the sky and waited for Ryuk to find me, which he did. “There you are. I’ve been lookin’ all over for ya.”

“What is it now?”

“The guys I’m workin’ with want to see you. They say they’re gonna return your Death Note.”

“Great. Take me to them.”

* * *

We flew for a while and eventually came to a hospital parking lot. We landed in front of a small group of Japanese men. All but one were wearing hospital nightgowns and some form of bandage.

_They must have been in the hideout when Mello blew it up…Can’t say I envy them._

There was a cute guy named Touta Matsuda, a bearded man named Shuichi Aizawa, a big fella named Kanzo Mogi, and a serious-faced man named Hideki Ide. Upon closer inspection, I could tell that some of them had been crying, especially the handsome young man who was holding my notebook. I recognized him from before, when Ryuk was helping me track down my Death Note.

It was Light Yagami.

_Kira._

It took every ounce of self-restraint in my being not to throttle him on the spot.

“ _You’re the shinigami who came here to take back this notebook, aren’t you?_ ”

“ _Hai._ ” I nodded.

“ _The notebook might be helpful to the Kira investigation, but we really only need one of them. I’ll give this one back to you._ ” He held out the Death Note. I took it and decided to show at least some respect for these men who had clearly suffered heavy losses.

“ _Thank you very much_.” I bowed deeply. “ _I am very sorry for any grievances caused by my Death Note_.” I stood up straight once more and tilted my head slightly towards Ryuk. “ _Don’t trust him. He’s a lying, cheating bastard. Goodbye_.”

I was back in the air before any of them even had a chance to respond.

* * *

I found Mello right where I left him, still unconscious.

I grimaced as I took a closer look at the damage his body had taken. His face, neck, and shoulder would be scarred for the rest of his life. Even with proper medical treatment, the recovery would be painful. His cell-phone was still on, so I knew that Matt was on his way, although I was unsure how long he would take, having no idea where he was. For all I knew, he could be on the other side of the world.

I sat down opposite Mello and waited. Sometimes he would grumble and moan, but I was pretty sure that he was still out like a rock.

_I’ll make sure Matt picks him up, then I’ll go. Now that I have my notebook back, I can finally finish this. In fact…_

I took out my Death Note and flipped to a blank page.

_Why not end it right now?_

I pressed the tip of my pen to the paper and started to write the characters of Light Yagami’s first name. I was almost finished when Mello made a noise that he never would have made were he awake. It was a sad, pathetic little whimper usually associated with a hurt puppy or kitten. He was scared, in pain, and alone.

_Just like I was…_

I looked at the unfinished characters of Light’s last name, then Mello, then back to what I’d written, before closing the notebook and tucking it back into my belt with a sigh.

_He doesn’t deserve that…Not yet._

“Mmm…” I looked up at the sound of Mello’s voice and placed my hand on his uninjured shoulder as he began to stir. “Matt…”

“Just relax, Pretty Boy, he’ll be here….eventually.” He continued to mewl and, without really thinking about it, I began to gently stroke his hair. Even singed, it was still rather soft.

_I wonder what shampoo- wait…what the Hell am I doing?!_

I pulled my hand back sharply and pressed myself against the wall, as far from Mello as possible.

_Jesus Christ, woman, get a hold of yourself! This is not some shitty fairy tale! Who do you think you are, the fucking Little Mermaid?! He’s not some dashing young prince who’ll love you forever now that you’ve saved him! He’s a bastard! A cunning, egocentric bastard! There is no way on Earth that pining after him could possibly end well for you, so GET A GRIP!_

I buried my face in my hands and sighed.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore…” I told the semiconscious man. “Seriously, I have no fucking clue…”

Mello (whom had relaxed somewhat after I’d started petting his hair) began to quiver again. He looked like he was having a nightmare.

_Ah, fuck it._

So I sang, hoping that maybe it would calm us both down.

“ _I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord,_

_But you don’t really care for music, do you?_

_It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift,_

_The baffled king composing hallelujah._

_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah._ ”

Mello became still, and after making sure that he hadn’t actually died, I continued.

* * *

About forty five minutes went by and I began to worry that maybe Matt wouldn’t come after all. But, like a cheesy last-minute _deus-ex-machina_ , I suddenly heard tires screeching against pavement followed by a car door slamming and running footsteps. It was Matt.

He appeared to be in surprisingly good shape for someone who supposedly spent all his time in front of a computer, with bright cherry-red hair that had clearly been dyed, orange-tinted goggles, a black-and-white striped long-sleeved shirt, a tan vest with white fluffy trimming, elbow-length leather gloves, jeans, and long black boots. The letters floating above his head read _Mail Jeevas_.

_Fascinating fashion sense…Curious name too._

I watched as he discovered his old friend and hoisted him over his shoulder, cursing around the lit cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Jesus, man, what did you do to yourself? Every time, every fucking time you call me, it’s to bail your sorry ass out of some shit-storm _you_ created. Unbelievable, unbe-fuckin’-lievable.”

I liked him immediately.

I followed the pair to Matt’s car and he loaded the burned blonde into the backseat as I sat on the roof of the vehicle. I held on tightly as we sped out of the woods and into the night.

We eventually arrived at a crappy apartment complex. As I hopped off the top of the car, I heard groaning from the backseat and saw a leather-clad shape squirming around. Matt got out and opened the door, this time walking Mello to safety and not carrying him. I followed them to his apartment and made note of the room number, in case I had to leave and come back. Once the two were in Matt’s bedroom and the fake red-head was bandaging Mello’s wounds, I decided to give them some privacy and floated up and out of the room.

Hours passed, with the night beginning to fade and daylight quickly spilling into the sky. Mostly I stayed outside the bedroom window, singing to Mello ( _if_ he could even hear me), but mostly to myself. When I wasn’t doing that, I was following Matt around, trying to think of a good time to reveal myself to him. I knew that it would be a while before Mello would be able to coherently explain the details of the situation, but Matt needed to know _now_. But the shock of seeing someone like me…

_Along with breaking at least a dozen rules…_

I soon came to the frustrating conclusion that the only way to do this was to do it quickly and hope for the best. Beyond had told me the guy was smart, and I prayed he wouldn’t interpret the sight of a shinigami as a sign of madness and not take me seriously. So, the next afternoon, after Matt had returned from buying more medical supplies for the still unconscious Mello, I touched a piece of my Death Note to his cheek, covering his mouth in the process.

_I am going to get so much crap for this._

He immediately became aware of the hand over his mouth and tried to cry out, but I pressed down harder to silence him. I then wrapped my other arm around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides so as to prevent much movement.

“Do not be afraid.” I whispered into his ear, instantly regretting it as he struggled in my grasp.

_Jesus, how creepy can you get?! Attagirl Alix, so much for not scaring him shitless._

His eyes widened at the sight of my large bony hand, soon traveling up my arm and finding my face. He produced a muffled scream and I began to find it increasingly difficult to hold him still.

“Wait, hold on, just give me a-” He wouldn’t listen, and after a few more failed attempts to explain myself, I let out an exasperated cry that, in hindsight, should have woken Mello. “Goddamnit, would you give me just one fucking second?! I’m not going to hurt you! I’m actually here to help!” That seemed to get his attention, for he suddenly stopped squirming and stared up at me. “Look, I’m a friend of Mello’s.”

He made a noise that I assumed was gag-speak for

_“The fuck are you talkin’ about?!”_

“Well, maybe not a friend, but I worked with him in his Kira investigation. I helped him get out of the hideout after it blew up. I was the one who first called you and you nearly hung up on me. How do you think he even got to that cave anyway, huh? You think he freakin’ skipped there?” I decided to stop there and let him come to a decision on his own. I watched as, like Mello, gears seemed to work in his head at an insane speed. “Listen, I can explain everything, and whether or not you believe me is up to you, but I can’t talk to you if you’re screeching like a goddamn lunatic. Understand?”

“Mmf!”

_“Yes!”_

“Alright. I’m going to let you go, but I want you to promise me that you won’t scream, okay?”

He nodded.

“Okay.” I released him and took a step back, whilst he bolted out of my arms and spun around, back pressed against the kitchen countertop and panting. We stared at each other like that for nearly thirty seconds before Matt finally spoke.

“What,” he breathed. “The _fuck_?”

I chuckled, pulling a chair from the table and sitting down.

“You may wanna take a seat. It’s a long, complicated story.” He did so, producing a cigarette from his back pocket and lighting up, which almost immediately relaxed him. “First off, let me introduce myself. My name is Alixandria, but you may call me Alix if you’d like. I am a shinigami, or ‘ _Death God_ ’, if you prefer the English term.”

“Alright, Alix the Shinigami. My name’s Matt.”

“I already know that.”

“So, would you mind telling me just what the flying fuck is going on here?”

I smiled beneath my scarf and told him everything.

* * *

To his credit, Matt handled the news better than I had hoped, nodding in understanding as I explained the rules of the Death Note and how it had ended up in the human world.

“Here.” I held the notebook out to him. “You can look at it if you want, but you must not let it touch the table.”

He took it and flipped through the pages, reading the rules Ryuk had scribbled in the front cover. He then handed it back to me without a word and I continued with the story. He didn’t ask many questions, soaking in the information I gave him. By the time I’d finished, the sun had almost set.

“But why?” he asked after I was done. “Why stay behind and help? You’ve already got your Death Note.”

“Eh, I’ve got nothin’ better to do.”

“Jeez, just how boring is the Shinigami Realm?”

“Unbelievably so.”

“Okay, so…we got killer notebooks, gods of death, and a burned Mafioso passed out in my bedroom. Anything else I should know about?”

“No, I think that’s about everything. I’m sure this is a lot to process, and I would not be offended in the slightest if you wanted some time to yourself.”

“Nah, nah, you’re good. I’m gonna go check on Mello really quick.”

“Okay.” Once he was back, I asked how he was.

“Still out cold. I doped him up with a shit-load of pain-killers, so it might be a while before he wakes up.” I could tell by the look on his face that he was worried and saddened by the state his friend was in.

“If it’s any consolation, I really am sorry about all this.”

“Appreciated.” Matt sighed, taking out a small rectangular device and flipping it open, sounds soon emerging from the machine. Curious, I stood up and peeked over his shoulder as a familiar logo flashed on the top screen.

“What’s that?”

“This? It’s a Nintendo 3DS XL.” Upon seeing my look of confusion, Matt elaborated. “You play games on it.”

_That’s right, I think I had something similar to this…Wasn’t nearly as high-tech though._

“May I watch?”

“Uh…” He stared at me for a few seconds with a weird look on his face. “Sure.”

For a few minutes, I observed the game as Matt played it.

_Yes…Yes, I remember this. I had one of these games. It was my favorite._

A yellow creature suddenly appeared on the screen.

_“Pikachu!”_ it squeaked.

“ _Pikachu!_ ” I mimicked.

Matt’s head spun around so fast, I thought for sure that he was going to break his neck.

“What the Hell was that?!”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to distract-”

“That was amazing!” His face lit up with childlike wonder. “How did you do that?”

“I just sorta…did.” I shrugged.

“Can you do it again?” He was practically bouncing in excitement, and I couldn’t help but think it a little cute.

“Okay. _Pikachu!_ ”

Matt nearly screamed.

“That is so cool!”

“Thanks.” No one had ever called my imitating ‘amazing’ or ‘so cool’ before. I was actually rather flattered. “I can do other Pokémon too.”

“Really?! That would be-!” Then it dawned on him. “Hang on…How do you know about Pokémon?”

_Oops. Almost forgot._

“There’s…something else you should know.”

“What is it?”

“Before I tell you, would you mind if I asked you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever heard of a guy named Beyond Birthday?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title for this chapter: Blown Eviscerated Puppy
> 
> Pokémon and Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah belong to their respective owner(s), and not me. So please, no suing.


	6. Alliance

When I told Matt about my former humanity and of my acquaintance, Beyond Birthday, his reaction was very similar to Mello’s: skepticism, followed by dumbfounded acceptance, and then finally, sympathy.

“How old were you? I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”

“About your age, give or take.”

“Oh.” There was an awkward silence. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

* * *

Mello regained consciousness on the second day.

We had both agreed that it would be best if we waited a bit before telling him of my return, seeing as he had enough to deal with already, so I waited in the living room while Matt changed his bandages and told him where he was. I could make out bits of their conversation through the walls, but didn’t go out of my way to eavesdrop. What little I did hear were mostly pained cries of vulgarity from Mello.

My long-dead heart went out to the guy…sort of. I knew from personal experience how much burns stung, along with overwhelming defeat and humiliation, but he had brought it on himself. Now it was just a matter of whether or not he would bounce back.

_He’ll be fine. It may take a while, but he’ll get over it. I’m sure he will._

“So, how is he?” I asked when Matt returned.

“Well, he’s pretty pissed, but I got him to take some pills and go back to sleep. And frankly, I’m startin’ to feel a bit agitated too.” He flopped onto the couch with an angry huff. “Remind me again why you waited until _after_ the hideout blew up to help him?”

“I told you, getting my Death Note back was my top priority, not ensuring Mello’s safety. Plus, I didn’t know that he’d rigged the place with explosives, _and_ that he’d be stupid-slash-crazy enough to detonate them while he was still inside.” I sat on the other side of the couch. “Look, if it’ll make you feel any better, you can punch me in the face.”

“Huh?”

“You’re clearly frustrated and need to let out some pent up anger, not that I blame you, so I’ll let you have one good slug.”

He gaped at me for a few seconds, and I could tell he was seriously considering taking me up on my offer, but in the end, he just shook his head.

“No, thanks.” He took a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. “Besides, it’s not you I hate right now, it’s Kira.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t care what I have to do, I am going to see that bastard taken _down_.” As if to emphasize his point, he viciously ground his fag into an ashtray until it was a messy pulp.

* * *

On the afternoon of the fourth day, whilst I floated outside the living room window, I heard soft music coming from inside. It sounded vaguely familiar. It was a sweet, lilting tune, being produced by a wind instrument. I poked my head in and found Matt sitting on the couch playing an ocarina. His eyes were closed, fingers moving over the instrument’s small holes with an ease that only came from many hours of practice. I stepped all the way into the room and watched him for a few seconds.

It was a very serene image. Everything about it soothed me; the gentle music, the way Matt’s fake red hair seemed to glow in the sunlight, and the look on his face, an expression of peace and contentment. For a brief second, I wished very much for time to freeze, so I could watch and listen to him play for as long as I wanted; but I quickly shoved the feeling away.

_NO. You already care way too much about one of them, you are NOT getting emotionally attached to the other!_

_"Too late for that.”_

I shivered at the voice’s intrusion. I hadn’t heard it since the explosion, and I’d been hoping it was a one-time thing. And while I was well aware that my sanity wasn’t nearly as intact as it used to be, I was still rather unnerved; having a voice that you _knew_ wasn’t real whispering in your ear was never a good sign.

Matt finished the song and opened his eyes.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hey. What was that? The song?”

“ _Song of Time_ from _Legend of Zelda_.”

“ _Legend of Zelda_ …That’s a video game, right?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re very good.”

“Thanks. Whenever I’m feeling stressed, I just whip this out and play a few songs. Works every time.” He gazed fondly at the instrument before glancing back at me. “Any requests?”

“Hmm…There was this one song I really liked back when I was alive, but I can’t remember the name. It had an ocarina in it too, and it was really pretty…” As I racked my brain for the song title, I began to hum bits and pieces of it.

“ _Stairway to Heaven_?”

“Yes, that’s it! Do you know it?”

“Sure.” He blew into the device once more and started to play.

What came over me then can only be described as a tidal wave of emotion. It was somewhat similar to the feeling I got when I took my first bite of chocolate; good, but a little scary. Memories flooded my vision, flickering by so fast it was hard to make most of them out. I saw people, places, animals, colors, everything. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I could only watch.

_Oh…Oh God…This is…_

My legs wobbled and I sank into a nearby chair. Matt stopped playing.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…” I relaxed slightly as the images quickly faded away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think…I think I just had a flashback is all.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, it’s alright. If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear a little more.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Okay. If you want me to stop, just say so.” He started up again.

This time I was prepared, and while I let the strange feelings wash over me, I also pushed them to the back of my mind.

_Easy, easy…Focus only on the music…Let it flow through you…_

After a while, I began to sing along in the voice of a young Led Zeppelin.

“ _There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold,_

_And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven._

_When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed,_

_With a word she can get what she came for._ ”

I cooed the lyrics, unaware that Matt had stopped playing and was staring at me in awe.

“ _And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven._ ” I then noticed that I no longer had musical accompaniment. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just…” He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “That was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen. It was almost like Zeppelin himself was in the room.”

“Thank you.”

“Just…damn.”

“I’ll admit, being me may not be perfect, but you gotta love the voice.”

“I wonder though,” He rubbed his chin in contemplation. “Why do you talk like that? That isn’t really your natural speaking voice, is it?”

“Not exactly. I’ve tried going back to my original voice, but I can’t-”

“What,” We both turned around and saw an extremely pissed off Mello, wearing nothing but a pair of _Mario_ -themed boxer shorts and bandages, standing behind us. “The _FUCK?!_ ”

_Uh-oh._

“Hey, look who’s up,” Matt smiled innocently. “How ya feeling, Mello?”

Ignoring him, the blonde headed towards me, a murderous glint in his eyes. I stood up and took a few steps back. While I knew this would probably happen, and had prepared myself for Mello’s fury, the look he gave me was still rather intimidating.

“Look, Mello, I know you must have a lot of questions, and-”

“ _You’re goddamn right I’ve got questions!_ _Where the fuck were you when the hideout was being sieged?!_ ”

“I was watching from above. I was fully aware of what was going on, and I let it happen.”

“ _You traitorous bitch!_ ”  He reached up to grab hold of my shirt, but his hand went right through it. “ _How dare you come here after leaving me for dead?!_ ”

“I didn’t-”

“ _You shut your mouth!_ ” This time he tried to take a swing at me, but I just grabbed his fist and held it tightly while making sure not to break it. “ _Let go of me, you cu-_ ”

“Mello, stop!” Matt grabbed his good shoulder and pulled him back. “Alix-”

“ _And you!_ ” He turned his furious gaze to the gamer. “ _How can you see her?! Only people who’ve touched the Death Note can see her! And it was taken by the NPA!_ ”

“They gave it back!”

“ _What?!_ ”

“It’s true! They thought that if they gave me my notebook back, I’d leave the human world and return to the Shinigami Realm!”

“ _So, why didn’t you?!_ ”

“Because I want to help you, dumbass!”

Mello blinked.

“Wait…what?”

“I want to help you catch Kira.”

“Why?”

“Because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s when someone uses _my_ Death Note without asking! Especially if it’s a self-righteous little prick bent on world domination!”

“Hang on, you said you were helping because you were bored,” Matt interjected.

“That too.”

“But…” Mello thought for a second before glancing at the fist I held in my own. “Could you let me go?”

“Do you promise not to try and hit me again?”

“Do you promise not to provoke me?”

“No.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

“Fair enough.” I released his hand, smirking as he gently rubbed his knuckles. Contrary to my appearance, I actually had quite the grip.

“As I was saying,” Mello said. “Why do you want to help _us_ find Kira? With your abilities, he wouldn’t be that hard to find on your own.”

“I’ve already found him. He gave me my notebook back himself.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” Matt cried. “Why haven’t you killed him already?”

“I was, and believe me, I _really_ wanted to, but then I realized something: just simply _killing_ Kira would be too simple. If anything, people would think that he was one of Kira’s _victims_ , not the real thing. And while I could always make him confess to being Kira before he dies using my Death Note, I know that that won’t do either. I want Kira to be _exposed_ , beyond any reasonable doubt. I want to make him _suffer_ , and once I’m done watching him squirm, I will kill him myself.” I paused for a second to let my words sink in. I could tell that Mello found the notion of Kira wallowing in his own misery to be _very_ appealing, but Matt…I wasn’t quite sure. It was hard to tell with his goggles. “But I can’t do it on my own, as I am now. I need help, _human_ help, and you’re the only guys I know who have even a chance of succeeding.”

“What about Near?” Matt asked. “You must know he has better resources than us.”

“Shut up, Matt!” Mello snapped.

“Well, it’s true!”

“I have thought about going to Near, but I don’t know where he is, nor do I have a decent physical description to go by, other than that he should be in his late teens and is a little pale. Right now, you two are my best bet. And, to be honest…” I sighed. “I think you deserve it more.”

“What do you mean?”

“All that Kira’s ever done to me is use my notebook, which he probably didn’t even know was stolen. But to you, as humans, he’s done a lot more damage, both to the human world itself, and to you personally. So, I’ve decided to let you have him, so that you can avenge L and every other life that Kira’s destroyed.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Matt grinned and clapped me on the shoulder, or on the forearm, seeing as he couldn’t possibly reach my shoulder. “We’d love to-”

“Wait.” Mello stopped him and glanced at me. “Alixandria, would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?”

“Sure. I’ll understand if you don’t want my help, but do know that if you refuse, I will have no choice but to take my proposal to Near.” Just as I was halfway through the window, I glanced over my shoulder. “Oh, and by the way, you may wanna put some clothes on.”

The last thing I heard before I was out of earshot was Mello asking Matt what the _shit_ was he wearing.

I flew to the roof of the apartment building, where I sat and contemplated my current predicament (along with how surprisingly good Mello looked shirtless).

_No! Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!_

I gave myself a good slap.

_That’s better. Anyway, this is the right thing to do. I know it. I will see this through to the end, even if it means…Nah, don’t really want to think about that right now._

I slowly rubbed a hand down my face.

_Fuck…I’ve got some serious issues._

* * *

About ten minutes went by before I heard Matt calling my name. I leaned over the roof and found his head sticking out the window.

“Up here.” Instead of waiting for him to reply, I let myself tumble over the edge and hovered a foot or so from the apartment. “You called?”

“Yeah. Come inside and we’ll talk.” I went through the wall and found Mello sitting on the couch munching on a chocolate bar, this time wearing a pair of gray sweat-pants decorated with golden blocks with question marks on them, and a baggy t-shirt depicting a blue pixelated character that appeared to have a cannon for an arm. I pursed my lips and held back my snickers.

“Alixandria,” he began.

“Just ‘Alix’, is fine.”

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Alix…”

“Yes?”

“First of all, thank you for saving me back at the hideout and helping Matt find me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Second, I’d like to apologize for lashing out at you. It has been pointed out to me that you could have just left me there to die and returned to the Shinigami Realm with your Death Note, but you instead willingly decided to stay behind and aid in my escape.”

I was surprised. Mello never apologized to anyone, and certainly not this formally. I could tell by looking at him that he wasn’t too happy about it, but also truly meant what he said, and I was touched that he cared enough about me (or at least thought I was a valuable enough asset) to do something so far out of his comfort zone.

“I accept your apology.”

“Good to know. Finally, Matt and I have decided to let you stay and assist us in tracking down Kira. However, we will be doing most of the work ourselves and do not want you to interfere unless we tell you to, understand?”

“I understand.” I felt a strange twinge in my chest that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “So, where do we start?”

“You said Kira returned your Death Note to you. When and how did this happen?”

“Shortly before the NPA stormed your hideout, Ryuk, the shinigami currently possessing Kira, came to me and told me what was about to happen, and that if I didn’t interfere, I’d get my notebook back. Afterwards, he took me to Kira and made good on his promise.”

“And this was before Matt found me?”

“That’s right.”

“I see. And how fast can you fly?”

“If the winds are right, and I’m properly motivated, I can go as fast as sixty-five miles per hour.”

“Would you say you were ‘properly motivated’ that night?”

“Yes, but Ryuk flies like an old woman, so it took us nearly fifteen minutes to make a trip I could have easily made in five.”

“So Kira was only five miles away from the hideout…” Mello took a savage bite of his chocolate bar.

“But this was three days ago, he’s probably long gone by now.”

“But he could still be in LA,” Matt said. “And since Kira gave up ownership of your Death Note, he won’t be able to see you-”

“I don’t think tailing him would be the best idea, if that’s what you’re going for.”

“Why not?”

“Because while Kira may not be able to see me, Ryuk can.” I sat cross-legged in the air. “If a shinigami loses their Death Note in the human world, they’re allowed to go down to retrieve it. Once they have it back, they’re expected to return to the Shinigami Realm. Ryuk probably thinks I’ve done just that; but if he finds out I’m still in the human world, he might tell Kira. But then again, maybe he _won’t_.”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I know, Ryuk doesn’t help Kira in the way that I help you. He’s neutral about the whole thing. To him, this is merely entertainment; a show. If he were able to do something to make the show more entertaining, like tell Kira there’s another shinigami following him, he might just do it. Or, he might not, for the same reason.”

“What do you think the odds are that he _would_ tell Kira?” Matt asked.

“Fifty-fifty, no, sixty-forty, or whatever; the point is that I think it’s more likely that he would. If anything, I think I should stay as far away from Kira as possible.”

“So, if we can’t go after Kira, we’ll have to do the next best thing…” Mello mumbled, consuming the last of his chocolate. “We’ll go to the SPK.”

“Near’s group? But aren’t they in New York?”

“That’s right.”

“So, aside from how precisely we’ll be getting from Los Angeles to New York without being spotted, are you sure you’re up for traveling?” I asked. “You just got up, and those burns are still pretty fresh.”

“I have some former colleagues who owe me a few favors, so transportation won’t be an issue. And as for my current…” He paused for a second and touched the bandages surrounding his face. “ _Condition_ , Matt and I have already discussed it, and I assure you, I’ll be fine.” He crushed the now empty chocolate bar wrapper in his fist. “Besides, I’m not going to let something as minor as this deter me. I _will_ find Kira before Near does.”

“Alright, but I’m not carrying you again if you pass out,” I shivered. “Once was enough, thanks.”

The bullet Mello sent my way went right through me and made a hole in the cheap plaster of the wall.

_That’s my boy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title for this chapter: Oh No, He's Hot!
> 
> Song of Time, Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven all belong to their respective owner(s), and not me.


End file.
